Episode 11- Living at Walmart

For the first time in probably 22 years I woke up on the Tuesday after Labor Day and didn't have to go to school or work of some kind. Although, I still probably woke up earlier than I would have for either one of those activities, it is still kind of a good feeling.

The good feeling lasted all of about 20 seconds, though as, unlike previous successful attempts, Mommy was unable to get out the door without being seen today, meaning I was stuck listening to the screams of abandonment and fear for the next 20 minutes. It also doesn't help that Av is teething, which means that the cries are more intense and followed by a lot more drool.

So, as the loud little bastards from the neighborhood FINALLY got on the bus for the first time, Av and I did what any two red-blooded, God fearing, unemployed Americans should do with a week day morning. We went to Walmart.

Back in my younger, thinner Western Mass days, Walmart was the place to be. That was before Target came along and convinced us that it was worth spending a little bit more for a cleaner, smiley face-free environment.

As I grew older and my priorities changed (and they ditched the smiley faces) I have found myself frequenting America's original "Big Box" store once again. Mostly because formula is like $4 cheaper there than it is at Target.

So, unshowerd, unshaven and wearing a shirt that said "Coors Rodeo" I loaded the little guy in to the Impala and we went on our way. She must have known where we were going because she was grouchier than she usually is when we get in the car. I can't imagine that there is really a "nice" Walmart any where in America, but the location on the Lynn/ Salem line is particularly sketchy and dirty, so I can't blame her.

Walmart at any time of any day is a cultural experience at the very least, but I have to say Tuesday morning after the Back to School rush has to be one of the most surreal things I have ever seen.

First of all, the store was packed. Absolutely packed with a clientele that consisted mainly of Spanish couples, and their subsequent 3-7 children each.

The first thing that crossed my mind when I walked in to the store is probably the same thing you are thinking right now. "I thought school started today." It did. You're right. School started today just about everywhere, including Lynn and Salem. I have no explanation. None.

Given the large amount of children roaming the already disheveled store it was nearly impossible to even navigate the stroller down some aisles. There was literally one section of the store that was covered in Cheerios from a box that looked like it had been stomped on by 8-12 small children and then torn apart by a large cat.

On a side note, this Walmart does not have any hand baskets. Really? No hand baskets, Walmart? Do you have any idea how hard it is to push a carriage and a stroller at the same time?

On the way to the always entertaining baby section I passed my fair share of wolf t-shirts and little kid clothes with attitude (what 2-year-old knows what "Orange County Choppers" is?) but by far the worst/greatest thing in the entire store was a T-shirt that simply read "The King" and featured a full body shot of Michael Jackson from the "Thriller" days, immortally standing on his toes with his hat covering his eyes. This shirt was also in youth sizes, which made me wonder "how many kids actually know what this means?" But, then I remembered that MJ fans are crazy, and a little disturbed, and they probably subjected their children to 24-hour coverage of his death and forced them to listen to countless replays of "Billy Jean" in the days following.

(In a now defunct blog that I used to write about zombies, I made the case on the day he died that Michael Jackson should be buried immediately before he rises from the dead and starts feasting on the brains of children, but I digress...)

Now, being a 25-year-old single dad with a less than functional personal life does not exactly make me a model parent, but Jesus, the cast of characters in the baby section of Walmart made us look like the friggin family of the year.

Even tossing aside the countless Spanish families touting around 7-year-olds who should be in school, we got to witness the trashiest of white trash at their finest. What is it about overweight parents that make them want to scream at their kids in public? There was one sweat-pants adorned family who had an infant probably 2-3 months older than Av, who were literally screaming at the poor little guy because he shit his pants in Walmart. (For the record, my kid shit her pants in Walmart, too, but I waited until we got home to changer her. Also, I did not scream at her).

Apart from the parents with small children, there were also a lot of elderly people shopping around. I am one of those people that likes the elderly. Old men make me laugh, old ladies are adorable. If I were a millionaire, I would have a nursing home. It would be like having 50 pet old people.

That said, letting old people go to Walmart by themselves is not something I support. Every time I turned a corner there was another decrepit old biddy trying to compare prices between two rolls of toilet paper, the labels of which she has no shot of reading anyway.

Once we navigated the human obstacles of the store, Ava and I got in line where, as usual, she was the star of the show. Everyone wanted to see the beautiful baby. Everyone wanted to ask about her. Everyone spoke directly to her like she was going to answer and then said "she is shy" when she didn't.

No. Idiot. she is not shy. She is an f-ing baby. What the hell do you want her to say?

"Hey little baby, how are you in there?"

"Oh, I'm ok, I'm a little big for this seat and I'd really like to get home before the Price is Right starts, but other than that I'm good. How are you?"

Ridiculous.

Of course, there always has to be one person who pushes it too far and gets in her face and makes her cry. In this case it was the cashier, who made her cry and then said

"She's grouchy today."

No. She is not. You are just an idiot and its pissing her off. Just like her Daddy.

After nearly being killed in the parking lot three or four times by a combination of old/ Spanish drivers and making a quick pit stop at the liqueur store so Daddy can wind down when his shift is over, we finally made it back home in time to watch Drew Carey play pricing games with the very same old people who were probably walking around a Los Angles Walmart earlier that day. Score.

(Yes, I do consider the Price is Right to be a valuable, entertaining, educational part of a child's life, by the way).

Just as we were getting to the Showcase Showdown we heard yelling coming from out side. One of the morbidly obese, sweatpants-wearing people across the street was screaming at his daughter for who knows what. I looked outside and saw the man wearing one of the very same "Big Dog" t-shirts I had seen earlier in the store and I realized that if Walmart were a street, it would be Roslyn Street. It is loud, there are a ton of kids, old people and stray pets, and nothing looks like i is worth much more than $20. All that's missing is the automotive department with the plastic spinning hub caps. That's probably one street over.